The masking tape made a smooth, crisp seal over Mr. Rhoads’s old clothes and secrets. Beth carried the box to the nursing station and called the front office to let the family know. Hal Rhoads’s children could decide what to do with the women in their father’s life. Beth had her hands full with the women in her own.
The rest of Beth’s shift passed in a fog. Her phone stayed silent, her thoughts dark. Even Miss Gigi couldn’t get a smile out of her with the latest gift she’d received from her son—a stuffed mini poodle with blue glass eyes that Miss Gigi had enhanced with long, stick-on eyelashes.
By the time all the IVs had been replenished and the medications checked, Beth was exhausted. She looked longingly at the couch in the nurses’ break room, but she knew if she lay down, she might not get up. She refilled her thermos with bitter coffee from the communal pot, checked her phone one more time, and trudged out to her car to head home.
Chapter Eleven
Before Beth could touch the handle, the screen door flew open.
“Mom, hi, Mom. I have something I need to ask you.” Jack’s face was flushed, her words coming out in an urgent jumble.
“Hey, honey. Just give me a sec.” Beth stepped around her daughter and into the kitchen, dumping her bag on the counter. She headed to the fridge and waved a box of frozen waffles at Jack, who shook her head.
“We already ate dinner.”
Beth moved methodically from freezer to toaster to sofa, while Jack circled her double-time, chewing her nails and doing her best impression of a volcano about to erupt. Lana watched from the table, where she nursed a Diet Coke and a small pile of oyster crackers.
“I need to talk to you,” Jack said.
“Did the detectives come back?”
“No. Not that.”
Beth closed her eyes. Maybe the sheriffs had found another suspect to harass. Or maybe they were busy gathering evidence against Jack, conjuring up a story that she was an unreliable teenager who let a tourist die on her watch. Beth wondered what they might dig up. Would someone at the Kayak Shack talk about the time Jack marooned a group of tourists in the flood zone at king tide? Or would they find out she lied about meeting Ricardo? When Beth opened her eyes again, Jack was right up in her face.
“Mom, listen. They’re going to open the slough tomorrow. I want to go out there. In the morning, before school. Is that okay? I mean, they haven’t figured out yet what happened, but it must be safe if they’re opening it, right?”
Beth looked at her daughter, a 105-pound tangle of nerves and hair. “Honey, those detectives still have questions about you. Our priority has to be keeping you safe. What if something else happens?”
“Like what if someone else dies?”
The toaster dinged, and Beth flinched. She’d been so focused on her fears about the detectives that she hadn’t even considered the possibility the murderer could still be out there. Hearing it out loud made it an even scarier prospect.
“I just want you far from trouble,” she said, retrieving her waffles and returning to the sofa.
“Why am I being punished if I didn’t do anything?”
“I know you didn’t. But they don’t.” Beth wondered if her mother had made any headway yet on finding them a good lawyer.
“Mom, don’t I look even more guilty if I stop going out there? Isn’t it, like, a sign? If I change my routine?”
“The only thing it’s a sign of is that you listen to your mother.”
Jack’s eyes went dark. “It’s not like I’m some scared bunny rabbit.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I know how to take care of myself.”
“Honey, I’m not saying you don’t. But this is serious. Can we just take this one step at a time?”
“Please, Mom. I need to get back in the water. Remember when I fell off my bike and you told me to get on it again? And the first time it was weird, but then after six times it felt totally normal? I think that’s what I need to do now or—”
Jack’s voice broke, and she collapsed into her mother’s shoulder. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him. I see the mud and the pickleweed and his red life jacket. It’s like the slough isn’t my place anymore.”
Beth stroked her daughter’s hair. Jack’s head rose and fell with Beth’s even breaths. “It’s awful when someone dies. Even someone you didn’t know very well.”
“I only met him once.” Jack’s voice was muffled against Beth’s sweater.